


Tributary

by tentacledicks



Series: Into The Storm [7]
Category: Watch Dogs (Video Games)
Genre: Bondage, M/M, Sex Shop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 07:28:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17260085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tentacledicks/pseuds/tentacledicks
Summary: Jordi takes Aiden shopping, because it's funny.





	Tributary

**Author's Note:**

> So Jordi is... a dick. Like, a giant asshole in this. Not towards Aiden, for once, but he deliberately and pointedly borders on sexual harassment here, which is hard to tag for so this serves as your warning instead. Also an internal narrative that includes victim blaming, because he's a _dick_.
> 
> Also, I have a [dreamwidth](https://tentacledicks.dreamwidth.org/) now! Come bother me over there, where I'm going to be posting mmmmostly meta and fic updates.

**June 6th, 2017 14:32**

 

This was already turning out to be one of his best ideas ever, and they’d only just walked into the store. Aiden was turning that funny mix of pale and flushed that meant he had no idea how to react, face going blank and neutral. Maybe someone else might have found that intimidating, but Jordi thought it just made him look dumb as hell. It was great.

He’d brought Aiden here for a couple of reasons:

  1. Because he wanted to find a good leather harness, and estimating sizing only went so far; Michel could probably shoot Aiden’s measurements his way, but Jordi wanted to get a feel for what _Aiden_ liked too, if only because that would make the whole process of getting him to wear it easier.
  2. Because that look on Aiden’s face right now? _Fucking priceless_.



For a sex shop, this one was pretty classy. The floors were linoleum not, _ugh_ , carpet like so many of these fucking places did, but the racks of costumes and the fabric panels on the walls kept the sounds in the front room muted and soft. The back rooms were all fitting rooms, not someplace to watch videos, though there was one firmly closed off that probably got used for _private_ parties. The decoration was a bit pinker and more feminine than he’d usually like, but it worked to make Aiden go quiet with terrified masculine embarrassment, so Jordi wouldn’t hold it against them.

The wall behind the counter was covered in various sex toys, ranging from dildos and strapons to floggers and anal hooks, the usual arrangement of paddles and ropes and sex swings all organized into vague categories. This place was a lot heavier on the dildos and the vibrators, with only one small cabinet devoted to fleshlights, but again, couldn’t hold it against them. The older lesbian running the store wore a day collar, its chain deceptively light for the kind of punishment he bet it could take. Figured a joint like this would cater more towards the female persuasion.

He’d be lying if he said that woman-run stores like this weren’t more appealing anyways. There was something about men that made them think the grungiest fucking shithole covered in porn advertisements made a _great place to sell kink supplies_ , even if that meant two floggers and some nipple clips in reality. Frankly, Jordi didn’t understand vanilla people. What kind of person actually enjoyed going into those places?

Aiden was locked onto an incredibly frilly _something_ with either dismay or interest on his face—maybe both. Oh, this was an opportunity that Jordi couldn’t pass up.

“Thinking about wearing that?” he asked, keeping his voice soft as he came up on Aiden from behind, his hand resting posessively at the small of his back. From across the shop, he got a wink from the store clerk.

“Uh,” said Aiden, intelligently. “No, I just—why are we here again?”

Most guys would squeak, or at least go a little bit higher when fear and embarrassment was riding them this hard. Not Aiden though; he always went a register lower, the gravel in his voice becoming the warning rumble of a rockslide. Jordi always wondered how many situations Aiden had talked himself out of because people mistook anxiety and panic for anger, heard those rumblings and didn’t want to ride that avalanche themselves.

Didn’t mean his voice couldn’t crack though. If Jordi kept the pressure up, he might even get a chance to hear it today.

“We’re getting you a harness, remember? And I’m making you pick it out in public because I live to hurt you like this.” There was the soft jangle of bells behind them, some other group coming in, but Jordi didn’t turn around.

Aiden didn’t appear to even notice. “You really fucking do, don’t you? Is this revenge for me beating you at your own game yesterday?”

“Only a bit,” Jordi admitted after a couple seconds of thought. Fair’s fair, he hadn’t expected Aiden to be into exhibitionism _quite_ like that. Kinky fucker. He hated that it made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside to remember it.

Beside him, Aiden sighed, a quiet outrush of air from his lips, then put his game face on. “Alright. Fine. We’re picking out a harness. Damien always handled that shit so I have no idea what I’m doing, lead on.”

“Assuming you don’t want to add crossdressing to the mix this early—”

“You are never getting me into a dress, Jordi.”

“—then we need to be over _here_ ,” Jordi finished, completely ignoring Aiden’s tired objection. It wasn’t on the table. Aiden had made it _clear_ that it wasn’t on the table. But that didn’t mean couldn’t joke about it anyways, keep needling at him over it because watching Aiden bluster and fuss about how much of a _man_ he was always made Jordi’s day.

And he needed a little bit of that amusement, because he fucking _hated_ being reminded that Damien had run his slimy hands over some of this shit first. Being reminded that for all that he could throw Aiden in the deep end and introduce him to all sorts of shiny new kinks during sex, some of it was ruined forever because Damien had gotten there first. Maybe it wasn’t all Damien, sure—Aiden had mentioned once that getting hit always reminded him of the beatdowns the Club doled out to the members dumb enough to leave—but enough of it was.

Aiden had some weird fucking triggers, and it wasn’t like Jordi had any ground to stand on when it came to that, but god _damn_ was it annoying. Like this. How much of the trepidation was Aiden being stifled in his own embarrassment over public attention, and how much was because he kept waiting for the other shoe to drop?

_Ugh_. At this rate, Jordi wouldn’t even be able to make fun of him for it.

“I’m getting you one done custom,” Jordi said, not letting any of his internal monologue show in his face or body language, “but this is a good place to figure out what you like and what you don’t. Gives me a better idea for sizing, too.”

The clerk had made her way over, leaning on the corner of the counter as she watched Aiden stare up at the various harnesses on display just outside the fitting rooms. Her voice was full of gravel too, decades of smoking giving it a warm rasp as she asked, “Can I help you boys pick out anything? Try it on?”

Aiden looked a bit like he wanted to die. Jordi grinned at her, then jerked his chin up towards a fairly complicated collection of straps and buckles. “If you’ve got one of those large enough to fit this guy, we wouldn’t mind seeing it on him.”

With a chuckle, she moved out from behind the counter, hunting out a copy of the harness from a set of locked cabinets discreetly tucked under the display. Aiden’s expression turned faintly pleading once it was in his hands, but Jordi spun him around and sent him off to the fitting rooms anyways. If he wasn’t going to complain out _loud_ , then Jordi wasn’t going to listen to him.

“He’s cute,” she said, heading back behind the counter. “Anything else you wanna look at?”

“I travel too much for most of the fun shit,” Jordi said regretfully, though that back wall was pretty goddamn appealing. Maybe, if they did another long vacation, he’d indulge a bit.

“Alright. Call me if you need me.” The clerk ambled back down the line of the counters towards the register, lifting her voice up in a greeting for another couple that had come in. Jordi ignored all of them in favor of picking between harnesses—he had a feeling that Aiden was going to get frustrated by all the buckles and clasps, but that was fine. He liked simpler things too, he just lived to torment Aiden first.

Not too simple though. Something with a little decoration to it at least. If Aiden put his foot down and demanded a basic cross harness without all the extra bits, he’d talk to the leatherworker about embroidery or something. Maybe branch out to white leather instead of black. Get it done up to match the collar he was half-considering as a Christmas present.

His therapist was going to be so fucking proud of him for indulging in _holiday gift-giving_ , which was why Jordi hadn’t told him yet. Always good to have something like that in reserve for when he said something stunningly fucked up and needed to give his guy an out. Even if Jordi hadn’t forgiven him for the use of the L Word last time they’d talked on the phone.

The couple had moved closer, though they were focused on the costumes more than the leather gear. Jordi caught the guy giving his suit a speculative look, but he glanced away as soon as he realized Jordi was watching him. Some scrawny twenty-something fuck, his girlfriend poking through the costumes with carefully contained distaste, her body language tight and uncomfortable.

Fresh meat, Jordi thought dispassionately, watching her boyfriend squeeze her shoulder a tiny bit too hard as he leaned in to whisper something.

If he’d met them in a club, one of the invitation only ones, he’d point the people running it at them. It’d gotten a little worse over the years, but that wasn’t something people could lay at the feet of any one book or movie or fucking whatever—there’d always be men (and women, though it was mostly _men_ in Jordi’s experience) who wanted to play too hard and without any of the rules, seeing the fantasy and not the reality of the thing. The good clubs kicked people like that out, before they could do real damage to themselves. The bad ones let them in, because the bad ones were full of predators who were more than happy to take advantage of ignorance.

Personally, Jordi didn’t give a fuck about the fresh meat. Most of the time he had them kicked out because he never trusted them to know their own goddamn limits. If a sub couldn’t stand up to him, _Jordi_ wasn’t about to feel responsible for how hurt they went and got—shit, it was why he liked playing in groups more than anything, because he could leave all the boring maintenance shit to other doms and just enjoy the fun parts.

The scrawny fuck glanced over his shoulder at the wall of toys and whispered something else in her ear that made her flinch before she put on a smile and whispered back.

Aftercare was one. Safe words were another. _Boundaries_ , both stated and unstated, and the particular nuance of how consent was addressed in kink spaces. That was the boring shit, the shit that people had to pay attention to even if power-exchange wasn’t on the table. He’d never sat down with Aiden and a list, but most of it he could figure out on his own, the stuff he’d hate and the stuff that Jordi thought they’d both _love._ Nobody just getting into it because they’d seen the raunchy media du jour ever thought about that shit, because none of the media thought about it either.

He bet that the scrawny fuck was planning on buying the branded, shitty cuffs and paddles, wanted an excuse to hit his girlfriend without anyone questioning it. Not his problem, and if she wasn’t smart enough to get the hell out of dodge now, it wasn’t like some stranger in a sex shop would convince her otherwise.

There was a very soft, “Mother _fucker_ ,” from the fitting rooms, and like a kaleidoscope shifting, everything took on a slightly different hue.

Aiden was, for the moment, trapped in there trying to figure out the way the complicated strap setup worked. The moment he came out, he’d read the room—might not even come out entirely if he realized some other people were in there. If _he_ figured out what the sharp wire of tension was between those two, Jordi’s whole fucking game plan would be ruined, because Aiden would refocus on making the scrawny fuck miserable instead. He was just _like_ that.

And Aiden would figure it out, Jordi knew that. Because he’d bet that five, six, however many years ago, that sharp wire of tension in a sex shop had been him and Damien, the pressure of what Damien _wanted_ overriding how Aiden felt.

He needed that couple out. The fastest way to do that would be making sure she knew that her dipshit of a boyfriend didn’t have a damn clue what he was doing in here.

A glance at the register showed the clerk was busy advising another couple on various buttplugs, both of them with that mixture of nerves and excitement that meant they’d be latched on to her for as long as she had information to give. Perfect. That meant _he_ could do as much damage as he liked without interference.

He waited for the scrawny fuck’s attention to stray again, gaze tracking back to him with all the inevitability of iron shavings to a magnet, except this time Jordi caught those eyes with his own and smiled. One predator to another. There was _always_ a bigger fish.

“First time?” he asked, still smiling. It was an explicit breach of courtesy, but hey, he was _all about_ violating social norms. Especially if it served a purpose.

Trapped by the combination of expected politeness and Jordi’s eyes pinning him like a moth to a corkboard, the scrawny fuck hesitated before telling him to fuck off. Hesitated long enough that his girlfriend looked up, her attention flickering to the wall of paddles and chains behind him. Not brave enough to ask on her own, but clearly wondering who he was and why he was talking to them.

Even if he couldn’t get them to leave, Jordi was going to _enjoy_ playing with his food.

“My partner’s trying some things on right now, so the fitting room’s occupied,” he said into the silence between them, jerking his chin towards the fitting room door. He could hear, out of sight, the clerk still patiently walking through the Beginner’s Guide To Anal. “But you’ve got that innocent lamb led astray look going on, so I figured I’d ask while he’s occupied. First time in a kink shop?”

“...You got a lot of experience with this sort of thing?” Scrawny fuck was dodging the question, but that was all the answer Jordi needed. All the answer his girlfriend needed too, because she was looking more wary and uncomfortable by the second.

The waters she was treading were already full of sharks. If it took a big motherfucking great white to show her that, well, Jordi did _occasionally_ indulge in pro bono work. He was such a nice guy. “Been at it for a while, yeah. This is the longest I’ve held onto a sub though, so I’m figuring I’ll get ‘em kitted out for once. Usually I stick to playing with other people’s—I just like holding the whip.”

Idiot that he was, the scrawny fuck looked intrigued, his grip on his girlfriend tight enough to leave bruises. As if he’d ever be in the same circles as Jordi, as if he’d be able to fucking _handle_ being in those spaces without being the only one in control. His girlfriend had stopped trying to hide her distaste though, and Jordi gave it maybe ten more seconds before—

“Let’s go,” she said, softly, sliding out of her boyfriend’s grip before he could shift his grip to something actually _secure_ rather than just painful. A look of surprise crossed his face, but he followed without questioning Jordi, too focused on trying to figure out why his girlfriend had suddenly turned recalcitrant.

Fucking moron.

The clerk finally broke away from her eager newbies, making her way back up the counter with a frown on her face. Oopsie. Not like he was going to be in town long anyways, he could afford to burn some bridges here. Technically, his work was done. Goal achieved. Annoying couple: out. Aiden: still blissfully unaware. Pack it up boys, this one was a job well done.

But that scrawny fuck’s complete inability to read Jordi’s body language _annoyed_ him, so when the clerk was close enough, he asked, “You catch a good look at those two that just left?”

“Yeah? The ones you ran out?” Oh yeah, definitely annoyed. Maybe she’d been able to hear him better than he’d first thought. Whatever.

“Yeah, those are the ones.” Jordi flashed her a completely unrepentant grin. “I know you’ve got ties to the local community. Keep an eye out for ‘em—she’s not interested, but I’m guessing he’s going to try and pressure her into it anyways. If he doesn’t succeed with her, he’ll go hunting anyhow, won’t he?”

She stared at him for a long couple of seconds, eyes narrowed and wrinkles furrowing at her brow, then sighed. “I was planning on it anyways. Where’s your boy?”

“Still confused by the very basic concept of buckles, probably,” Jordi said lazily, right as the fitting room door clicked. “Speak of the devil.”

“I am _not_ coming out in this,” Aiden said, sounding like an earthquake waiting to happen.

He glanced at the clerk, who shrugged and waved a hand in permission. Aiden damn near jumped out of his skin when Jordi pushed the door open, but the flush down his neck and shoulders did _great_ things for how the leather laid on his skin, pitch black and tight against muscle.

The set of his jaw said that he hated it. The way his eyes were bright said that he _loved_ it. Jordi figured he’d split evenly down the middle.

“So,” he said, trailing his fingers up Aiden’s side and meeting his eyes in the mirror, “do you want one in black or in white?”


End file.
